"We are; the others are some miles behind, moving slowly so that the wagons can keep within touch. Wonderful the way those wagons have pushed ahead over the rough country. Have only missed camp twice since we left Dodge." "When was that, sir?" "Before the blizzard all except your troop were at Camp Supply; they had joined since, and it was then we heard about your trip down here. What became of your men, Sergeant?" "Wasson and one private were killed, sir; the other private was frozen so badly I had to leave him in shelter on the Cimarron." "By gad, it sounds interesting; and so you tackled the villains alone, and had some fight at that before rescuing Miss McDonald. Well, the story will keep until we make camp again. However," and he bent low over the lady's hand, "I must congratulate Miss McDonald on her escaping without any serious injury." "That is not all I should be congratulated upon, Major Elliott," she said quietly. "No--eh--perhaps I do not understand." "I desire that you shall; I refer to my engagement to Sergeant Hamlin." The officer glanced in some bewilderment from her face to that of the silent trooper. "You--you mean matrimonial?" he stammered, plainly embarrassed, unable so suddenly to grasp the peculiar situation. "Hamlin, what--what does this mean?" "Miss Molly and I have known each other for some time," explained the Sergeant bluntly. "Out here alone we discovered we were more than friends. That is all, sir." For an instant Elliott hesitated, held by the strange etiquette of rank, then the gentleman conquered the soldier, and he drew off his glove, and held out his hand. "I can congratulate you, Miss McDonald," he exclaimed frankly. "I have known Sergeant Hamlin for two years; he is a soldier and a gentleman." The red blood swept into her cheeks, her eyes brightening. "He is my soldier," she replied softly, "and the man I love." They rode together down the steep hillside covered with its mantle of snow to join the little body of troopers halted in the valley. Only once did Elliott speak. "You know Black Kettle's camp, Sergeant?" "We were almost within sight of it, sir. I saw his pony herd distinctly." "Where was that?" "On the Canadian, close to the mouth of Buffalo Creek." "Did you learn anything as to the number of Indians with him?" "Nothing definite, but it is a large encampment, not all Cheyennes." "So we heard, but were unable to discover the exact situation. We have been feeling our way forward cautiously. I fear it is going to be my unpleasant duty to separate you and Miss McDonald. We shall need your services as guide, and the lady will be far better off with the main column. Indeed some of the empty wagons are to be sent back to Camp Supply to-night, and probably Custer will deem it best that she return with them. This winter campaigning is going to be rough work, outside of the fighting. You know Custer, and his style; besides Sheridan is himself at Camp Supply in command."